


In the Garden After Training

by peaches2217



Category: Kung Fu Panda (Movies)
Genre: F/M, immortality AU, it's also not that shippy, minor angst but not really?, my apologies.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 04:05:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaches2217/pseuds/peaches2217
Summary: An old master tells an old friend about his week.





	In the Garden After Training

**Author's Note:**

> Check out "At 2AM, A Conversation" for another work in this AU (and a more in-depth explanation of the AU's context)! This one takes place maybe a century later.
> 
> I wrote a few Immortality AU fics during my stay on Tumblr, but I dunno if I'll ever post them. This one seemed the most salvageable. The rest are... eh. Hit-or-miss.

An ancient panda lumbers easily through the Statue Garden, a white lily gently resting in his paws. A routine he’s kept up as needed for the past four centuries, give or take a few decades.

He bows once he reaches a cluster of statues far on the left end. There’s five of them in total, one for each member of the original Furious Five. His first true friends. Though they're far beyond this place, he can usually feel them when he's here, or at least imagine them saying hello, and he always greets them in turn. But the Spirit Realm must be busy tonight. He can feel only a single presence in the vast Garden.

Luckily, it's the presence he came here for.

The lily he places at the feet of the effigy farthest to the right, built in honor of the founder of Tiger Style Kung Fu. Carefully (he doesn't look a day over one-hundred-twenty, but his joints do like to remind him of his true age), he lowers himself into a half-lotus position before it, breathing deeply to clear his head.

“An Shi did a lot better this week.” He smiles. “I even told him that today. Of course, the minute I pointed that out, he got flustered and insisted that he was still terrible. And he _ did _do pretty terrible after that. So I think once he gets past his confidence issues, he’ll be a real capable fighter.”

The wise Master Po looks up at the statue. It stares straight ahead, unblinking, unfeeling, refusing to meet his gaze.

Not that he minds. He never much cared for the face, anyway. Its lips are set in a firm frown, as if the one it’s modeled after had never known joy or contentment. Its stone eyes are blank and dim in the night’s gleam, nothing at all like the amber orbs that shone in the moonlight when they sparred on sleepless nights or whispered privately to one another across the pillow.

Though he understands. This is the legacy she left behind. Master Tigress didn’t go down in history for her secretly caring nature or the softer words she spoke when she was sure no one was listening. Her legacy is one of strength and hardcoredness, if that can be considered a word.

Still… he finds himself wishing that more people knew what he knows. But there’s only so much he can do. (Besides, two of the sculptor's descendants are still living in the Valley. They'd be dishonored if Po's true feelings came to light, so he figures it's nothing worth raising a fuss over. His body may be worn down, but his memory is sharp as ever.)

Closing his eyes, the old master inhales the warm night air, waiting; sadness decides once again to leave him be. It’s not much of a surprise, though. He hasn’t felt sorrow in a great many years. He’s not even sure why he still anticipates it.

_ “What I’ve figured out,” _ he’s told his students whenever they're grieving or upset, _ “is that you shouldn’t dwell on what could have been. Just remember what was, and be grateful it happened. Cry, scream, be sad for as long as you need, then when you’re ready, look back just long enough to smile.” _

It’s not completely his own advice. It’s the advice his fathers gave him late in their own lives. It’s advice that’s gotten him through many challenging times.

The panda wracks his brain for something else to say. But nothing else really needs mentioning. “I just wanted to let you know how he was doing,” Po finally states, nodding slowly at the figure before him. “You’d like An. He reminds me of me when I was that age. Or — you know who he really reminds me of?” He laughs. “Chang! You remember him, right? I talked about him all the time when he trained here.”

Nostalgia, comfortable and bittersweet, flows over the panda as he recalls another student, another life he was fortunate enough to be involved in. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve met him face-to-face by now. But while he was in this realm, he ended up being one of the best warriors I’d seen in ages. So I’ve got a lot of hope for An.”

Steadily, he lifts himself back onto his feet, bowing once again. “I’ll be back next week to let you know how he does. I think I’ve got an idea for some confidence builders.”

He can almost see her rolling her eyes now, can just faintly hear her questioning the credibility of his plans. And he laughs again. “Trust me. It’ll work!”

In the soft glow of the moonlight, Master Po’s eyes flutter shut, absorbing the feeling of peace and warmth for just a moment longer. “Anyway, sweet dreams, Ti. I love you.”

A light breeze brushes against his back as he treks back to the Palace, leaving the past behind him once more.


End file.
